Staining Sanctity
by loosedefense
Summary: After the death of his wife, Annette, Richter Belmont searches for the mysterious being known as The Poltergeist King to return the Vampire Killer to and to escape Dracula's reign with Alucard's help. PostSymphony of The Night. Please read and review.


Spoilers: _Castlevania: Lament Of Innocence_, _Castlevania III: Dracula's Curse_, _Castlevania: Harmony Of Dissonance_, _Dracula X: Rondo Of Blood_, _Castlevania: Symphony Of The Night_, _Bram Stoker's Dracula_, _Castlevania: Bloodlines_, _Castlevania: Portrait Of Ruin_.

Disclaimer: _Castlevania_ is the property of Konami and this story in no way affects the actual series nor do I stand to make any money out of it. It is purely a work of fiction.

I view this story to be a sort of companion piece to this other story I'm writing called _Castlevania: Opportune Of Destiny_, so if any of you read that, it may contain references to this story.

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It was not a happy home that Maria Renard and Adrian Tepes returned to.

Months on roads hardly trodden on, spending as much time with each other as possible, falling into adventures at different turns trying once again to rid the world of the plague that seemed to follow each of Lord Dracula's resurrection, and the two of them had finally decided they were weary of constant threat enough to venture back to Maria's home of Wallachia for some well-earned rest. The journey had been unpleasant, the clouds and rain seeming determined to hinder their path as much as possible, and the silences between them were laden with unspoken pleas.

All thought of discontent, however, were pushed directly out of their minds when they entered the home of Richter and Annette Belmont. Heavy furniture lay strewn, several chairs lying on their sides on the ground, and chests tipped over so that their contents streamed out. Marks and dents marred the surface of the wooden furniture.

Wide-eyed, Maria stepped forward, her eyes darting from one end of the room and sweeping all the way to the other side. She tread further into the room cautiously, her footfall never making a sound. His hand lowering down to the sword hidden in his cloak, Alucard kept close to her not wanting to give any entity that may have still been around the chance to come between them.

There was a chink of sound that caused Maria to turn her head sharply to its direction. Alucard grasped the handle of his sword and pulled at it so that it slid slightly out of its sheath. Another clunk followed, and Maria made her way, maneuvering around the objects, to the source of the sound. Alucard wanted to warn her; tell her that it was not safe to simply go in there, but instead dashed after her.

Maria turned the corner to confront whatever creature it was that dared to tear at this house that she had known so well, and to her slight surprise, came face-to-face with her brother-in-law.

Richter Belmont looked up at the girl, righting himself to his straight-backed position. Maria did not like the sight of him; his hair did not possess the lustrous appearance it normally had; his skin looked an unhealthy pallor; his fine coat and trousers bore wrinkles on them; and his eyes were red as though the man had spent the night drinking or weeping, or perhaps both.

"What is wrong?" Alucard asked softly.

Richter's tore his gaze away from her face to stare at the man behind her, whom he hadn't even realized had been there. He pushed the tangles away from his face and was half-tempted to reply gruffly, "Nothing," but he knew that it was neither true nor fair to them. To prolong the moment, Richter busied himself needlessly with crate he had shaped and set upon the table, meant to be filled with various possessions he was taking with him.

Finally, he drew breath in shaking gulp, and said no louder than he possibly had to, "It is Annette."

He had said it loud enough for only Maria to understand, but Alucard of course, gifted with sharper hearing than humans, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, never taking his eyes off Richter while Maria tried to force her worry away and ask in her calmest voice, "What is the matter?"

When Richter didn't answer, she pressed more urgently, "Richter, where is she?"

He slowly lifted his arm and pointed in the direction of the kitchen.

Maria broke out of Alucard's grip, running to where he said her sister lay. Her hands flew to cup around her mouth, not daring to accept just yet that her beloved sister had blood staining her clothes, staring up and beyond what Maria could with blank eyes. Alucard felt his muscles twitch even as desire and longing touched his heart to taste the essence of this woman, the blood shining more beautifully in his eyes than any man could appreciate. He looked away.

Richter was still standing in the same spot when Maria turned to him, her face furiously demanding to know what had happened here, though she had not the voice to speak it.

"She has taken her own life," Richter told her. He did not seem to know what to do with himself, and Alucard was impressed that he did not cower to comfort himself as most that he had seen in the past would have done. "She has taken her own life," he said again.

Indeed there was a knife fallen carelessly to the floor not but mere inches away from a wrist that had been cut open.

"Why?" Maria's voice finally shook.

Richter's shoulders slumped. "It has been – it has been hard, Maria," he said, looking into her eyes. "We have been shunned. The people fear us, and they speak of how my evil dooms us. Annette …" he glanced quickly at the body, and then back to Maria, "I didn't know how much it hurt her, how much I hurt her simply by being here. I woke to find her like this, with little breath left in her." He shut his eyes, as though the memory of what had happened wounded his skin. "I couldn't do anything; too much blood had left her."

Maria turned around and looked at the body of her sister again. The blood was still fresh, and though she had not touched it, the corpse, she imagined, was still cold.

She was shaking, whether out of fear or anger or sadness, she did not know. "We must bury her," she heard Alucard say.

"What are you doing?" Maria questioned, taking notice again of the crate filled with possessions.

Richter's eyes hardened and his jaw tightened. He seemed to be warring with himself. "I'm taking my son, and I am leaving," he announced. "This darkness has marked too much of our lives," he raised his voice to a defiant tone, "and I will not have him be touched by it any longer."

"You will go into hiding?" Even as she said it Maria knew it was not what he meant. Richter gave a small shake of his head, once, barely noticeable had she not been completely focused on him.

"Richter," she hissed, "you cannot. Your family has sworn—"

"What do I care of a centuries-old feud?" Richter demanded. His voice was breaking. "I have served my duty to my lineage, and to the church. He comes back in waves, and he has stolen me like he did Annette and you."

Richter paused, his chest swelling up at the thought of the vampire whom his family had given their blood for in order to rid him, time and again, to send him back to an oblivion he refused to stay in. His hand was weary, weary of clutching the whip, weary of remaining steady in the face of horror to comfort those who relied on him. But more than that, there was fear in him, such that he had never known. Darkness had touched him, held him so that he had not the will to fight it. And he was weary now of having to pay for the deeds of others.

"Maria," he whispered.

She kept her head down, her blonde hair falling across her face and hiding it from him. But they could not hide the expression in her eyes that he could still see though she tried to turn from him, nor the feeling of dire hopelessness that radiated from her.

"Maria."

"I understand, Richter," she told him. She looked up once more and he saw that tears stained her cheeks. He knew that she did not truly, nor would she be able to find it in her heart to forgive him of his cowardice, but just like that, too, it was in her nature to let him have the comfort he needed in hearing her assent.

Alucard had said nothing on the matter. Richter looked up, half-fearful of what he thought of this, his traitorous abandonment, but the expression on his face was unreadable. Silently, Richter, averting his eyes from the other two, walked past them to collect more positions to be placed in the cart.

"What will you do with it?" Maria asked from afar, still frozen where she stood.

Vampire Killer lay hidden in Richter and Annette's bedroom, unmoved for three months. "Richter, you cannot just leave it here!" He wasn't going to. Richter had thought of it many times since his wife had stilled that morning; it had haunted him, for there would be no choice but to take it with him and guard it, yet he did not want to, for as long as it rested with him there would be no escaping the Belmont plague.

"I have read the notes," Richter told her. "Years ago, when they were passed to me." He spoke of the book of his ancestors handed down from one generation to the next, rewritten in full when it yellowed and crumbled. It told of tragedy and triumph, the slayings of Dracula and his dark breeds; each word was important, conveying unspoken misery as his ancestors desperately hoped to have told of a clue that would one day be the vampire lord's undoing by whosoever next wielded the whip. The book was sacred to them, and Richter had studied it, just like every Belmont had, since the secrets written inside had been passed down to him in childhood.

"I have read of the Poltergeist King," Richter said. He unthinkingly picked up a cloak, one of his finer ones, and caressed the fine silk with calloused hands. "He who stood guard over the Vampire Killer in the days when Dracula hid from us all." He turned around to face his two guests again. "I will find him," he said determinedly. "I will ask him to watch over it once more."

"And who shall fight in your stead?" Alucard's voice rang out over think silence. Richter stared at him, shocked. He had expected the dhampir to remain silent the whole time, as he seemed intent on doing.

"There will be others," he felt the flare of disgrace burn beneath his skin again.

"The Vampire Killer is man's prayer," Alucard said severely. There was strain on his face.

Richter didn't have the strength to answer. He had already tortured himself with the thought that he would be dooming the world to bloodshed when next Dracula rose so that the rest of his line could escape with the safety that he had never known, and knew that he would condemn himself forever for his weakness.

"When will you leave?" Maria asked.

"Today," Richter decided. He had taken all he could stand to. Everything that was left in the house could be swept away for all cared.

"Then I will come with you," Alucard told him. Looks of surprise met him.

"You need not," Richter said at once.

"The paths to the King are treacherous," Alucard said. "With my father's black work still at hand, you would be buried sooner rather than find him."

Richter spoke no more. Whether the dhampir came with him mattered not in the end, for this would be the end.

"Maria—" Alucard turned to her.

"Go with him," she bade. "Perhaps you can show him his fears are false."

"I will try." From within his cloak he pulled out a spear, blessed like the weaponry he armed himself with. "You will need with you this," he said quietly. "Should wickedness seep to your door."

Maria accepted the weapon, raising her head proudly, ready for the challenge Alucard feared she might have to fend herself against in their absence.

"Night will fall only too soon," Maria stated when Richter made his presence known again. "If you are to leave today, leave quickly, for when the sun sets the road shall only grow ever more difficult."

"If you are ready," Alucard addressed Richter. The vampire hunter nodded curtly. 

"On your guard," he warned Maria, stepping outside into cool winds. "Of what lingering curses may bring, I cannot say."

"I shall be," Maria promised. She knew too well how darkness kept men's hearts. Watching them venture into the towns, she prayed that they remained safe wherever their journey took them.

Under orange sky they walked, fixated on the path reaching the horizon. As the sun set, Alucard turned his head to see the modest house.

"There are very few mortals here," he noted.

Richter grunted. "They dare not lock their doors later than this."

"Beasts pass through here?" Alucard was very much shocked. He had never known his father's vagrant army to dare wander into town so late after their master's fall.

"No." Richter spat. "They fear a Belmont."

Alucard didn't say more, understanding how furious the slayer must have been. As many times as he had opposed his father, he did it no intention other than to honor his beliefs, but after the deed was done it pained him to know that he would never be a part of the world he spared.

"When it is done, where will you go?" Alucard asked.

"Far away," Richter still did not look at him. "Spread with so many miles my son will never know the name 'Wallchia'."

"When next my father comes, Europe will be devoured within few days," Alucard said in a light tone, eyes shifting to the side to catch Richter's expression. He flinched, as though the words hurt him on a physical level. He thought of how the world would be eaten if none stood up to Dracula.

Night fell before they had managed to pass through the town's borders. Few emerged, to run last-minute errands they had neglected during the course of their busy days; night watchmen took their posts, anxious looks on their faces growing all the more so when the two men crossed past them; several townsfolk scurried to light all the lamps about town. Alucard stole another look at Richter when he detected that none of the people they met seemed to look them straight in the eye. Some, he had realized, even went so far as to avert their gaze and pulled their hoods over their heads. Richter, for his part, stared stonily ahead.

As they approached the gate, close to three-quarters of an hour later, Richter gave the two guard-towers a menacing look before taking his first step past the town's line and into the woods that surrounded it.

Into the thicket they went. Richter placed one hand gently on the whip bundled to his side. "Be ready," he warned. "Creatures live unknown in woods, where they may stalk us more freely. We may fight sooner than anticipated."

Alucard gave a small nod. "Do you know where the Poltergeist King lies?"

"Only in clues." Richter informed. He beckoned his companion to follow him. "We fly fast."

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Leaping from his vantage point of one of the branches of a tall tree, Alucard raised his sword over his head, bringing it down heavily upon the Harpy as it dove in for a swoop, his blade slicing through its body in half, blood jumping out and splattering his pale face and body even as it let out a yelp.

Realizing what had happened, Richter jerked the hand that clutched the whip back, so that the Vampire Killer, which he had fired at the demon but was now instead reaching for Alucard, pulled back from its course.

When Alucard landed on the ground, he made sure to dig his boots into the mud with all this weight, angling them so that he slid to the right as soon as he hit the ground, out of the whip's recoil path.

They scanned the air for any more birds, ears pricked out for the sound of cawing or winds flapping.

"I think that was the last one," Richter panted. His brown skin gleamed with sweat.

Alucard straightened up, taking in the cold air of the night in great gulps, cherishing them as they filled him. The scent of the Harpy's blood intoxicated his mind too, and he secretly licked his lips. Richter, too, had been sprayed by the demon bird's remainders, and wiped his face impatiently. The result, however, did little to help; it simply stained his face red in pattern.

"We ought to find a stream," he said, "and wash ourselves off, lest we attract worse crowds."

Alucard hesitated for a brief moment. Water, even unblessed bodies, had the ability to hurt him, although with his full strength returned to him after the fight in his father's castle, and if they were to indeed cleanse themselves in a stream, he supposed the pain would hardly matter.

New moon hung in the air, so Richter was forced to rely more upon Alucard to take the lead with his enhanced vision in darkness and his sharp hearing to guide them a brook. Eventually, though it had been hard to find, they managed to come across a trickling stream that so shallow and so narrow it barely counted as a stream. Nevertheless, Richter dropped and lowered his cupped hands into the water, cherishing the cooling feeling passing over them. He brought them back up and splashed the water to his face, screwing eyes tight.

"You despise me," Richter said sullenly after having cleaned himself. Alucard brought his tingling hands to his face, spreading water to either side carefully, feeling his face sting slightly from the contact. Pulling away bloody hands, he looked at Richter with wide eyes. "How can you not think ill of me," Richter said in tortured tones, "for what I am about to do?"

He turned his head away from the flowing water and settled on Alucard's uncomprehending gaze. "Here I fail the courage Belmonts' have shown for centuries. Here I damn the world."

He looked upwards into the darkness of the sky. "Try not to judge me too harshly for my actions, for you see, I have always been weak."

Eyelids fluttered shut, Richter allowed himself to be sent back to the days Wallachia burned. The screams of the people still rang clearly in his ears to this day as he remembered how the entire town had been alight with undying flames, creatures befouling all that they found. In his heart, he had heard them all screaming for him to become their savior, and he, on his knees, had remained in the small ancient shrine, colored by the blaze that consumed them, and with a necklace of the Cross rolling about his closed fingers, praying to the stone statue of Trevor for strength.

Presently, he got to his feet, vision of his memory fading from his eyes.

"I do not despise you for it," Alucard rose after him. He could not see Richter, the man already having taken strides away from where they had sat. "Nor do I think ill thoughts. Your life is broken."

Richter surveyed Alucard coldly.

"You speak of desertion and judge yourself a traitor," Alucard continued. "You are not the first to hide away from my father's deeds." He watched Richter now, the wind sweeping locks of his hair delicately into his face.

Richter, having studied the book of the Belmonts', of course, knew of how Alucard had stood by the sidelines watching Count Dracula commit his heinous crimes before taking on his mantle and rising to strike him down.

"Even as my anger grew I fled and did nothing," the half-vampire seemed to have read his thoughts. "Silent in the dark, I waited until a savior broke my doubt."

"And then you did what was expected of you."

"I did what I had set out to do," Alucard corrected. Richter still kept his back towards him. "And when the blood had stopped flowing from the walls of the castle, I entombed myself in grief for my own tragedy, as you plan to."

Richter's face bore grief and anger. "What would you have me do?"

"I can ask nothing," Alucard told him. "I only say what you already know."

And Richter curled up against a black tree, his head buried for the rest of the night.

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"Did Maria have you follow me in hopes that you would slow me down?" Richter barked.

Alucard's eyes flashed when he glared at his human companion. "You already know," he said slowly, "that a vampire is severely weakened in the light of day."

"I also know that you are only half-cursed, so make haste," Richter snapped. He continued to tread across the rocky trail, not waiting for the dhampir.

"Perhaps next time," Alucard's called out from behind, "you will not waste the night in sleep, if you are so eager to be done with your quest."

"And I should place my trust in you to guide us while reeling in the dark, should I!" Richter bellowed as though the thought appalled him. His mood was foul. The blue coat he wore, though somewhat more threadbare than when he had first acquired it, was now torn and tattered in places; he was thoroughly famished, having not eaten since they had left his house; and he was now certain if the odd demonic beasts they stumbled into every once in a while on this old, apparently abandoned trail didn't kill him, the mosquitoes surely would.

With a growl from the back of his throat, he slapped at the back of his neck again.

He kicked a stray rock out of his way gloomily. For all the grief he gave Alucard, he wasn't completely sure whether they were going the right way, or even, if they were close to their target at all. Trevor had failed to mention just where exactly he had obtained the mystical whip from the Poltergeist King apart from the fact that the creature had dwelled within a cave. Richter had been hoping to locate the town his famous ancestor had lived in most of his life with his mother, Sonia, but he had never even heard of it apart from Trevor's record of it in the book. He briefly wondered if Alucard knew of it, but thought better of asking him before he opened his mouth.

He studied the surroundings. There were mountains a few miles north, he realized. And if there were mountains, it was possible that there were caves as well. "Hurry!" he dashed forward. Alucard bit back a frustrated sigh. Descendant of Trevor Belmont or not, he was becoming increasingly frustrated with this boy and was finding it harder to keep his mouth. Nevertheless, he took off into a sprint.

"Richter!" he shouted. "Richter, stop!"

Richter heard his companion's voice, but took no heed. But what did make him halt was the thought that entered his brain: they were fast approaching the mountains, but there was no city in sight.

Alucard slowed his pace and came to a stop a few feet behind. Richter rounded on him. "Can you not smell it?" Alucard's eyes wandered wildly around, darting from endless land to grey sky. "The stench of death hangs fresh here."

Richter turned his head wildly, trying to find the pile of bodies he expected to see in the area. However there was nothing around. 

Then, after a moment of pure silence, the ground between his feet and Alucard's broke open, a rotting fist protruding. The two warriors jumped back in shock. It groped about before another hand shot out from underground.

In horror, they watched as all about them hundreds, thousands of arms breaking through from the ground they stood on. It wasn't long until Richter smirked, hand going for the whip by his side. Alucard had already drawn his sword, and when the first ghoul stumbled forward, he simply swung his arm, the blade slicing through its neck. Before it had crumpled to the ground, the sword had pierced through the bones of the next one it could reach.

Richter pulled his hand back, and catching sight of one of them stumbling towards him with outstretched arms, caught it with the tail of the whip. The sound of a sickening crack pierced the still air. But instead of falling, as Richter had expected it to, the ghoul merely staggered several steps back, and, upon recovering, single-mindedly lurched forward to him again. Richter's mouth dropped.

He reeled his hand back and shot the creature once more with the Vampire Killer. This time, it tossed its head back and gave a low combination of a groan and a wail before breaking. Richter didn't have time to puzzle over why it had not fallen with Vampire Killer's first strike; the others like it were starting to close in on him. Quickly he found that they could all survive the whip's first attack, though the ones he had battled when Dracula had been strong could not have had such chance.

Through the fight, Richter danced around those that came too close, twisting his body to rain down strikes whenever possible. He saw, to his slight vexation, that Alucard slew them with the greatest ease.

"They keep coming!" Alucard declared. Richter had barely landed on his feet before he curved his body backwards to land on the tips of his fingers and overturned himself and then landing backwards on his feet nimbly again to avoid the fingers of one of the marching undead that had tried to wrap them around his throat. He swung his hand to the left, the whip smacking its body, then swung his hand back to the right, the whip colliding with the ghoul's face this time. It toppled off its' fragile neck to land on the ground, its body covered in rags doing the same only moments later.

The zombies kept coming in waves. Alucard and Richter fought for many hours, their strength rapidly exhausting; the sun burned their skin, the half-vampire more aware of its force, and Richter felt the edges of hunger and hard lands traversed gripping his brain. Most mercifully, by now more unmoving bones lay at their feet than creatures still attempting to fight them. While Vampire Killer seemed weak, the length of it meant that Richter was able to reach those in the outer edges far easier than Alucard could with his sword.

The last fell, but neither lowered their guard. As they had feared, the ground beneath them started to tremble. Something worse was afoot.

It seemed that the whole world was darkening, but truly it wasn't; in sudden bleakness the air rose up and the winds seem to create an image so strange, so illusory that Richter hardly believed that he was seeing it at all. The form was large, towering over the two of them, and it appeared to Richter and Alucard that it, whatever it was, was bound. Chains silently snapped around its body, and it was then that it opened its eyes to reveal cloudy whiteness.

"Sacrilege," he said, for he was a man. "Desecration to those who dwell on this forgotten road."

The two warriors looked up at it, stunned. Knowledge about evil things he had learned and found in Dracula's castle, Richter knew that this must be ghost, the largest one he had ever seen.

"Dwell," he said derisively. "There is nothing here but barrenness."

"This ground is still," declared the ghost. "All that is left is tribute to what once was."

"A graveyard," Alucard whispered. "This entire place is a giant graveyard."

"It has been befouled," the ghost said. "And I am protector of this place." With this, he raised one hand, and the remains at their feet begun to quaver. With a sudden burst of light, they felt things flash past them, their hair being swept up in the force. Alucard cleared his eyes first, then took a small step back when the sight of thousands of ghosts surrounding the one they had just spoken to. Thee ones, however small a comfort it was, were the size of regular men. Alucard realized that they must have been the souls of those they had mutilated.

"You shall perish before all who dwell here by the power of the Poltergeist King."

"The Poltergeist King—" Richter immediately came to his senses. "Wait!—"

"Richter, get away!" Alucard warned. The vampire hunter's quick reflexes jumped in, doing a jump over his shoulder just in time to avoid being killed by a gigantic sword that had materialized within a moment. The sword raised itself up and hovered in the air before the Poltergeist King, the dust still clearing from whence it had been struck by the apparition.

If the sword could have caused the dust to move, surely it could then feel the sting of the Vampire Killer, Richter reasoned. The determined look he plastered on his face whenever he concentrating on vanquishing a foe appeared, and he pulled the whip back and flung it towards the sword. It struck the part that resembled the blade. Richter didn't know whether it did him much good, but he refused to enter a fight without defending himself.

He thought that if he could simply get to the King, he could try to convince him to aid him in his goal, or at the very least cause him to feel some pain, but while the sword hung there, Richter dared not try to get too close. "Alucard," he called, focused intently upon the swinging sword.

Without warning, it aimed itself at him and sliced through the air. With a well-timed maneuver, Richter swung himself out of the way. "Aim for the sword!" he instructed. Alucard nodded, raising his own sword up as well.

The Poltergeist King's eyes swung to the right when he noticed Alucard dashing towards the weapon. Silently he willed the sword to cut along the path to the white-haired warrior. Alucard tensed his legs and leapt into the air, landing just behind it and with a swift turn, smashed his sword against the flat side of the gigantic blade.

Taking one last glance to make sure Alucard was handling himself, Richter took his chance and ran towards the Poltergeist King. It watched as he approached and let out a terrifying roar. "Keep fighting!" he hollered to Alucard.

Leaving the dhampir alone for the moment, the Poltergeist King focused his attentions upon his oncoming assailant. As Richter approached the specter, it felt as though a gale wind thrust him back. Landing in a sprawl, he shook the dizziness out of his brain and saw the ghosts hovering around the Poltergeist King floating towards him.

Alucard had taken this brief interlude to try and fight alongside Richter, but as the undead troop started to war against the vampire hunter, the King was able to once again focus his attentions on raining attacks on Alucard. The half-vampire managed to turn around and block himself from the enormous sword only just in time by raising his own before his body. The might of the weapons clashing forced him on his back, trying to hold off the crushing weight of the weapon.

Desperation welled up within Richter. It had taken too much effort to defeat the army before they became phantoms. As their master loomed over him, Richter felt his resolve dissolve.

Struck by inspiration, Richter pushed himself backwards. The specters chased after him; Richter ran towards the sword Alucard was still trying to hold off, and whipped it smartly.

Not expecting the attack, the Poltergeist King's concentration was momentarily broken. Richter pulled Alucard to his feet, then without bothering to look, smacked the first of the ghosts with the whip. "Lend me your shield," he appealed, hitting another one of the specters. Alucard unclenched the fist he had wrapped around the shield's back, holding it out for Belmont. Richter took it without thanks, and slipped it on. Gritting his teeth, he plundered ahead. The magic of the shield drove the ghosts away so that a small path was cleared between their waves as Richter drove on.

Alucard's apprehension grew, knowing that the King wasn't going to stand for this; and rightly, he knew, for he saw the sword quiver once more before zooming towards Richter. Readily, he jumped in its way and blocked it with his own.

Letting out a groan of effort, Richter forced his hand back – it trembled with the force his muscles applied – and then let loose, hitting the body of the Poltergeist King.

It was as though a spell had been broken. The hordes of ghosts creeping up on Alucard dissipated in an instant, and the sword he had been fighting grew stiff and unmoving before disappearing as well.

"_What?_" the spirit cried out. "I know this whip!" He was staring down at Richter with a look of amazement on his face. Richter blinked, uncomprehending.

"This," the Poltergeist King rose to an even greater height, "this is the Vampire Killer."

"You have heard of it?" Richter asked.

"Indeed..." he replied. "I was there when it was christened."

Richter inhaled sharply. "Tell me," the Poltergeist King resonated, "what is your name?"

"I am Richter Belmont," Richter straightened himself up. "I am a vampire hunter from Wallachia."

"So you are," the ghost said. "Then it is true. Yes, this is the Vampire Killer; the blood of the woman who gave this whip meaning appears to me now. But truly what killed my attention was not that I knew of this weapon, but rather why its power when I felt it strike seemed so weak. I ask, may I see it?"

Richter hesitated.

"I assure it will not touch you!" the Poltergeist King assured. Relucantly, Richter gave an almost imperceptible nod. The ghost willed it to rise from Richter's hand and had it float up to his eye.

"Yes …" he croaked.

"How do you know of it?" Alucard questioned, his mistrust in their opponent evident.

"Know of it?" the Poltergeist King murmured. "It was I who had created it, and bestowed it upon a young warrior, one who carried the name you do." His head turned so that his empty eyes were fixed upon Richter.

"_You_ created the Vampire Killer?" Richter exclaimed in disbelief. "How is it possible? How did you become this?"

"Through the fear of men," said the Poltergeist King.

"In my life I endured much sacrifice. My family had been stolen away from me, and in my age and in my fear, I could do nothing for them. I spent my years in secret, waiting at the foot of the house of my torturer, servicing the young men who came to him wanting to triumph him. I gave them weapons I thought they would have found useful, but as I always expected, none returned – until one day a man named Leon Belmont came searching for love.

"I told him of the vampire he sought after, and I offered him this whip for he was bare." The Vampire Killer still hovered before the great spirit. "He emerged, scathed yet safe, but had lost the woman he had fought so hard for. Cursed with vampire's poison. He came to me and begged me to save her, but I could not. The curse of a vampire is forever.

"I told him that if she was willing, her sacrifice would give this whip the power to defeat the vampire, and she agreed to it. It was so that out of her pain the Vampire Killer came to be.

"When we were free from the tyrant, he told me of a betrayal and the rising of a new vampire lord," the Poltergeist King continued. "Death served a new master, who had left the forest. We went our separate ways.

"But," he said ominously, "one night, over a year later, Leon found me again. He bore with him a son, and told me of evil things that had been happening in Wallachia, where he had stayed for fear of the betrayer returning. He thought that the rumors had been about creatures from Hell, for he had met the devil many months ago within the castle. He thought of nothing but the fact that if his child were to perish, all would have been lost. Though he wanted to hunt for his new foe, he could not risk it, for the people had already begun to shun him for his warnings of dark things. He feared that they would turn on him and rob him of his child.

"I took him in, and hid him well. However, the evil of this new dark lord spread far and wide; the men of the town came for me on one night. I bade Leon to flee, and was then taken and tried as a witch. I was bound to the stake and made to bleed and burn. When I died, I remained in the walls of this town, compelled to stay until this evil was put to rest.

"Leon returned soon after, and wept over my mutilated body. He stayed here, those who wronged me never having met him, and trained his son in secret. On his deathbed, I appeared. Surely he grieved again to see me, but I told him my fears that this new vampire king would not simply fade into oblivion. He begged me to watch over his kin, knowing not when the horror would strike. I vowed to do so. When his child passed on from this world, I took the Vampire Killer with me, for the art of wielding it was lost.

"News traveled one day, centuries later, of the rise of a cruel man in Wallachia. None knew what exactly he was, but it had been said that he spilled blood without mercy and could not be killed. I knew that it was time. When there seemed no hope and blackness swept over the world, I came to a man named Trevor Belmont. His mother was a whore, and as such he had grown with no father. I gave him Vampire Killer and told him of what he had to do. Like his ancestor he sought after this vampire, and was a champion.

"He stayed in Wallachia, keeping the whip with him, for it was told that the vampire would rise again while men contained evil within them. And though the threat was gone, he put it to use to stave away the curse it left behind, for the country was still submerged in evil. As he worked to free Wallachia, it was these forces that sank this town into nothingness.

"So that is the end; the being was rid from the world, and this town perished in the remains. Since then I have lain here quiet for nothing disturb this place that once was. I am pleased to see that it was not in vain.

"But see now," his empty eyes focused once again on the whip, "the power of this whip is dimmed." A shadow seemed to cross the King's face, though Richter was sure he had never seen before a ghost that could be touched by shadows. "Innocent blood has been spilt."

"It is my doing," Richter confessed.

"Nay," Alucard cut in, "not his, but the work of my father, he who you have fought to suppress."

"You call him your father," the Poltergeist King said.

"Lord Dracula," Alucard nodded. "I stand against him, and have stood against him for centuries. In his last fight, his followers stole Belmont from his home and kept him under enchantment. It was not by his own will that it happened."

"Nevertheless," the Poltergeist King said, "your blood hath spilt here, and Vampire Killer is countered. It will not work."

"But without the whip, how will Dracula be stopped?" Richter gasped. It was true that he had tired of his life fighting against the vampire, but he had not thought that the whip would not be used again, whether by his family once more, as he had always suspected it might, or by the hand of another who the Poltergeist King saw fit to pass it to.

"The Vampire Killer can only be used by a Belmont," the specter announced as though it had read his mind. "But because of this, it rejects you and those with the blood of a Belmont in his or her veins, for you have tainted it."

"How can it be removed?" Richter asked, distraught.

"It is unforgiven." The Poltergeist King said. "There is nothing for you here."

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Sunlight filtered through the leaves of all the trees in the forest. Richter and Alucard walked slowly and silently home. The shield had been returned to Alucard, who held on to it and his sword now, aware of their surroundings so that they would not be caught unawares. Richter was bare, having left the Vampire Killer with the Poltergeist King to watch over it once more. He seemed to be in deep thought.

"Will you be returning to your eternal sleep?" Richter asked.

"No," Alucard told him. "I have realized now what I must do." He stopped and stared at the morose-looking hunter. "It will not be long before my father rises again, and I cannot allow myself to drift by in this world without doing what I can to stop his reign."

"You may have to," Richter said darkly. "With the Vampire Killer rendered useless, you are the only one left to stand in his way."

"And what will you do?" Alucard asked. "Will you return to your home?"

"No," Richter said immediately. "I do not yet know where I shall end up, but I do know that I shall never be in Wallachia again."

Alucard did not try to persuade him in either way. The two of them continued walking. It was nightfall before they managed to reach Richter's home.

"I will see if Maria wishes to join us for a late dinner," Richter offered. "You may wash before then."

He searched the bedrooms and the kitchens, but all that greeted him was silence. Feeling his apprehension grow, Richter called out, "Maria! Maria!" as he burst into the baby's room. In the corner lay his son, sleeping without a worry. Richter felt a small rush of relief. He had been about to search the rooms again for his sister-in-law, but his eyes fell then on a note beside the child.

He picked it up and quickly scanned the parchment. It was from her.

_My dearest Richter_, it read, _I am sorry to have left your son in such a way, but I am quite sure that no harm will befall him. Of course I left my own protection upon him so that I would sleep sound knowing that he would have it to comfort him._

_I am sorry, but I cannot stay here. I tell you now why I came back from my adventures and why I must leave now, but I warn, do not let this letter fall to anyone's eyes but your own!_

_As we traveled the country to purge this world of Dracula's evil, Alucard and I came across many horrors, and as the nights grew long and each day we returned to whichever lodge we stayed in, having gotten a little closer to death each time, our restraint was weak._

_I asked Alucard that we come home because I was sure that I would no longer be fit to carry on in this manner, Richter. The truth that only I – and now you – know is that I am with a child inside me. It is Alucard's, and it is for this reason that I must leave, and for this reason that I beg you not to speak of it to anyone, especially him. His life is marred, Richter, by the fact that his flesh will never die, and that his cursed blood will live on until the end of time. Were he to find out that he has fathered a child with the same blood as him, I do not know what he would do._

_I took my leave while you were gone, and I have taken with me his spear as a weapon. I shall cherish it, and I shall use it as a means to bring down Dracula should he ever rise again in my lifetime, or even in the time of my successors. _

_I ask you, on your honor, do not tell him of this, Richter. Please, make my excuses for me._

_I shall forever miss you, and the nephew whom I shall never be able to lay my eyes on again._

_Maria._

By the time Alucard emerged from the washroom, he looked fresher than Richter had ever seen him.

"Where is Maria?" he questioned as he took his seat at the table with Richter.

Richter looked solemnly at him. "She has gone."

"Gone?" Alucard's face crumpled slightly with his frown. "Where has she gone?"

"I do not know," Richter said quietly. "She wrote me a note. She knows that the two of you can never be together, and she has told me that she is sorry, that she cannot bear to say goodbye to you, to either one of us. She has gone."

Alucard stared numbly at Richter for a moment, taking in what he said. Then he nodded, and accepted the piece of chicken that Richter cut and placed for him on his plate.

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And so it was that Richter left his home in Wallachia and all the darkness he had known in his lifetime. His hope for a better future came to be, as Gabriel Belmont grew never knowing the secrets of Romania and of the horrors of his family's bloodline, and so it was that neither he nor his cousin, Adrian Lecarde, whose name paid homage to the father he never knew, never came across each other.

When next Dracula rose, Alucard made his way to an all but abandoned castle, encountering only few demons, to find a note addressed to him from his father who had come to find that the name Belmont no longer existed in his domain and had left for Britain intent on conquering it for himself. But as fate would have had it, Dracula had delivered himself to a new generation of vampire hunters with the name of Morris who, thanks to a new line forged in the time of Juste Belmont by his sister who had married, was actually an offshoot of the Belmont family, whose blood in them was strong enough to wield the Vampire Killer once again but was dilute enough to trick it into thinking that it was being commanded by a new master, thereby giving them the chance of overcoming the fall from grace it had endured from Richter and returning the whip to the Belmonts' once more. But perhaps that is a story meant for another time.


End file.
